Good Day for a Warm Loaf

 I made some wholemeal jalapeno cheese bread this afternoon. It's been a while, but it was nice to get my hands into some dough and to smell the aroma of baking bread. I had some whey from a recent batch of ricotta I made, so I used that, heated until warm, as the liquid--it works really well for bread. I dumped everything into my food processor with the dough blade, whizzed it up until it was nicely mixed, turned the dough out onto a floured surface, and kneaded for a few minutes.

Then into the slow cooker, which had a piece of parchment paper in it, large enough to use to lift out the bread when it was time to turn the loaf. After a little more than 2 hours on high, I turned it over and let it bake for another hour or so, still on high. Then out it came and the impatient wait for it to cool down enough to slice began. I love the end piece, still hot from the slow cooker, with some butter.

I still have more whey left, so will make another loaf of bread soon. Not sure what kind. Chocolate mocha? Lemon poppy seed? Rye? I guess I'll see what I'm in the mood for at the time. For now, we'll  enjoy this one. 😋😀

I'd never thought about using my slow cooker to bake bread until my bread machine conked out. I'd gotten it 4 or 5 years previously for €5 at a charity shop, so I definitely got my money's worth from it. I didn't really want to get a new one and as it was during the pandemic, we weren't going to any charity shops. The ovens I've had in this country are all crap and other than muffins or flatbreads, I wouldn't try to bake bread in one, because I know the loaves would be burnt on the outside and uncooked on the inside. Besides, they are very energy inefficient. So I was looking for an alternative to bread makers and my oven. The slow cooker works perfectly and I am no longer looking for a bread machine. Even if I saw another one for €5 in a charity shop, I wouldn't buy it. When Bill got me my food processor, the whole process was made even easier and the combination of both appliances works better and is easier than using a bread machine, so in the end, I'm not sorry mine conked out. 

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I Gotta Be Me

 I've been reminded lately about how some things about our personalities and ways of being in the world are evident from a very young age. On this Halloween, I remembered a Halloween experience from many decades ago. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wouldn't have been beyond 5th grade, because I was walking home from elementary school (the school went up to 6th grade, but because I skipped 6th grade, my last year there was 5th grade). I was almost home and looking forward to trick-or-treating, when I was approached by some teenagers or possibly very young adults, who stopped me to ask, 'If you died tonight, are you sure you would go to heaven?' As far as I can recall, this was the first time I'd ever encountered people who adhered to that sort of Christian faith, but I was polite and answered them. I still laugh at my answer, which was, 'Well, no, I can't really be sure about that. How can anyone be sure that--or if--they will go anywhere after they die or know what will happen to them?' I was prepared to have a real conversation with these people, so the expression on their faces puzzled me and their answer seemed to consist of nothing much. They quickly realized that I was a waste of their time, I guess, because I was not delayed for very long and soon arrived home. 

Fast forward a couple decades--still a time when we had landlines and when paid TV was called 'cable.' Since we haven't had paid TV since 1995 and no TV at all for over 15 years, I have no idea what it's called now or how it works. But at that time, the cable company offered a new music streaming service that allowed us to choose different music stations based on genre and scrolled the song and artist on the remote. We had this for a while, but eventually decided not to keep it. A month or two after we ended our subscription, I got a call from someone doing a survey about our experience with the service. I'm afraid that once again, I answered honestly and not within the acceptable script. After we'd been muddling through the guy's questions for a while, I could sense his growing agitation. My answer to the next question did the poor guy in. He asked me how much we'd be willing to pay for the service, which under the circumstances was a stupid question. However, I was polite when I answered, 'Obviously nothing, because we cancelled it.' I could hear his gritted teeth when he replied, 'Please just pick a number, ma'am.' I did and he very quickly thanked me (against his will, I'm sure) and ended the conversation. 

I have never been good at superficial conversation, small talk, or choosing answers from a predetermined list. I mean, I politely do the first two, even if I find it tiring and I always have a running analysis going on in my head at the same time. As for the last one, sometimes, like when taking a test, if I know what the instructor wants the answer to be, I can just check off the right box. Even then, there's a part of my brain going through all the ways in which the answer is not really adequate. I'm not really good at fluff. I tend to get really interested in things and go way deeper than most people are interested in going. As I learn more about whatever the topic is, I find related issues to dive into and on it goes. I've been in conversations where people ask me something and I launch into a detailed answer that they were never interested in hearing. I'm not saying that having a superficial interest in some things is bad, just that I'm not built that way. I'm either very interested or hardly interested at all. I'm also not saying that polite small talk is bad--it's an important aspect of social interaction and I understand the useful purpose it serves. It's simply not my favorite thing. Once we moved here, it didn't take me long to come up with automatic answers to the ubiquitous weather commentary that cannot be avoided, although once in a great while I hear a new description besides, 'Not a bad day, is it?' or 'It's not raining, that's the important thing.' A few weeks ago we were on the bus home after being out in the wind and mizzle when someone got on and commented to another person, 'Tis a perishin' day out there.' He agreed that it was. It made a nice change from the ordinary. 

I sometimes used to wish that I was better able to skim the surface of some things. Eventually I accepted that I'm not like that and I'm not going to change at this late date, barring some sort of brain injury. So now I embrace this part of myself. I gotta be me, although I still know how to put on my polite smile and play the game when that is required.

Happy Halloween, if you celebrate!

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Poet, Mystic, Widow, Wife: The Extraordinary Lives of Medieval Women by Hetta Howes

 Poet, Mystic, Widow, Wife: The Extraordinary Lives of Medieval Women

by Hetta Howes

Published by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

ISBN 9781399408738

This book is an exploration of the lives of medieval women, organized (albeit sometimes very loosely) around the lives of four women: Marie de France, Julian of Norwich, Christine de Pizan, and Margery Kempe. These were 'four different women who defied the expectations of their time and wrote back against the misogyny they experienced.' The author uses their own writing as well as other sources to describe what life was like for women, moving from childbirth to death, including marriage, adultery, travel, making a living, and influence in between. She states that all four of these women were 'trying to craft a legacy that would endure.' This book and others are witness to the fact that they succeeded, even if their work was unknown for a time.

This is a very enjoyable and informative book. It provides a fascinating glimpse into another time as well as showing us how some things continue hundreds of years later. It's a very readable book--lots of information but written in a very accessible style. If women's history in particular or medieval history in general interests you, then this is a great book to pick up.

I thank NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.

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A Winter Wonderland of Words

 A Winter Dictionary: A Collection of Words for the Festive Season

by Paul Anthony Jones

ISBN 9781783968237

Published by: Elliot and Thompson

This is a fun collection of words related to all things winter, starting with the end of autumn transition to early winter and ending with the late winter transition into spring. In between there are chapters devoted to various aspects of winter, such as the weather as experienced both outside and from the inside, festive holiday rituals and activities, landscape, and more. It's a delightful assemblage of words, some relatively new, some old, and some archaic. Each entry includes the word, its part of speech, its earliest known use, a definition, and often amusing examples. There's a word list in the back. As someone who loves winter and finds that it always goes by too fast, I loved diving into this winter wonderland of words and could see myself going back to the book again and again at all times of the year. Whether you're a lover of winter, a lover of words, or both, this is a book to appreciate.

A few of my favorites include:

meldrop: a single drop from a melting icicle or the tip of a person's nose

chimonophile: a lover of wintry weather

cryophile: something or someone who thrives in wintry conditions

antifogmatic: a drink taken to combat the effects of cold or damp weather.

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Time to Flee!

 One week ago, the horrible Harvest Fair began with live 'music' at local bars. For the loud bar near us, this meant a start time of 10:45 pm and an end time of 2:30 am. The following day was fair day itself. Main Street was closed to traffic and vendors set up stalls. We were looking forward to this a couple years ago when we first got to town, thinking we'd see lots of art and craft. No. It was stall after stall of plastic junk. It was difficult to get through the crowd of people. I found it quite unpleasant. We haven't done that again. As usual, there was music playing in the street during this event. Then the bar started blasting the same old loop of recorded music we've heard so often, so the noise polluters were competing with each other. I occupied myself by getting ready to flee the next day.

We knew the weekend would be the worst of the event, so we booked a room in another town to get away from the noise pollution weekend. On Friday, Saturday, Sunday, in addition to the live 'music' at the bar, much activity was planned for Main Street--different musical performers, a parade, a jiving competition, and just general drunken revelry until late. Because horrible harvest fair is a special event, the noise is permitted to extend later into the night. The worst of the schedule was Sunday, when the planned events would go on for 9 or 10 hours. Instead, on Sunday I was sitting outside on a rocking garden bench, listening to the birds singing, feeling the slightly chilly breeze, and looking at flowers whilst drinking tea and reading a book. I'm so grateful I got to experience a weekend of peace and quiet instead of agitation and annoyance. 

As a bonus, we got to spend some time with Sue, who is 16.5 years old--and what a bundle of energy! The way she wags her tail made me laugh every time. 

It was a lovely quiet weekend. We're so glad we avoided the worst of the fair. The noise issue was a lot better this summer. It hasn't been as loud and it hasn't gone on so late--the bar seems to be careful about stopping when legally required to do so. They've also enclosed much of the back area where the noise occurs, so people do seem to stay past closing time, and they may have music playing, but it's barely audible and then only in the kitchen. I can't hear it in the bedroom, so I don't care what they do. Listening to the noise last Wednesday, I was struck by how we used to deal with nights like that all the time last year and how stressful it was. The fact that we're not dealing with that kind of thing on a regular basis is another reason to be thankful. The Harvest Fair is the biggest community event of the year, though, so that's never going to be any better. What's the saying? If you can't beat 'em, join 'em? No thanks. I'll just leave instead.

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Liars by Sarah Manguso

 

As the title indicates, this is a book about liars--people lying to other people, each other, and themselves. Early on there is a scene that serves as a metaphor for what's to come when Jane, the narrator, tries to use a marker to hide the fact that her thrift store fur coat is disintegrating. Soon after this, she fills in her 'patchy eyebrows' with a pencil. When Jane, who is a writer, meets John, a self-identified artist and filmmaker, this habit of covering up reality gets more serious. They begin a relationship quickly and it's clear that this is a mistake, especially when they decide to get married. Jane realizes this on some level, but is pretty good at lying to herself and at 'keeping up appearances' with the people she knows. As she says about herself, 'I was a layer cake of abandonment and hurt, and fury, iced with a smile.' (p36) John does his own lying to her and to others. He lies to himself as well, but in a different way than Jane does. He has delusions of grandeur regarding his artwork, which isn't particularly good, mostly, although he seems to think he's a genius. John is lazy and manipulative and seems to fail at everything, leaving Jane to pick up the pieces and cover for him as best she can. Meanwhile, Jane is a successful writer, which John resents. When 'the child' arrives, things get worse and the pressure on Jane builds, particularly when they move back and forth between NY and California a few times while John chases down funding for his ideas. The pressure is always on Jane. John needs someone to blame for his own failings and inadequacies. 'He kept telling me to stop letting it show on my face. To hide how I felt so that no one would know, no one would be able to read the proof of my shame and humiliation, which by then I always felt for John so he never needed to feel it himself.' (p 81)

And so the lies continue throughout the book as things continue to fall apart. It's not quite the case that this is a portrait of a marriage falling apart, but more that the marriage was falling apart before it began because the two people involved were already in crisis before they met. The (unnamed) child both exacerbates the situation and gives Jane someone to be stronger for, even as she sometimes uses him as an excuse to stay in the marriage.

The book is structured in short paragraphs of various lengths and this fits the narrative well. Jane goes back and forth--one minute she has clarity about what is going on and the next she's telling herself that she's so lucky and of course she loves John and they have a happy family. The short paragraphs illustrate this as the reader whipsaws back and forth with Jane's thoughts. The book is extremely well written and I was drawn in from the start, finishing in one sitting because I didn't want to put it down. This book is almost exclusively focused on the devastation of the relationship and Jane's responses to it. There is a lot about how overwhelmed Jane is at what seems to be required of her as John's wife and 'the child's' mother, as well as how she feels she is losing herself in the process, but here and there are sprinkled comments about the next book she is having published, so clearly there was writing time happening, even if it was hard to carve out. This is a painful book to read at times. John was pathetic and thoroughly unlikable. That said, this is an excellent book and I'm glad to have read it. I haven't read any other work by this author, but will now seek it out.

Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a digital review copy.

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I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues

 My annual summer blues have been pretty intense this year and, as always, I am eagerly looking forward to some good sleep. I need a chilly (or even cold) room and a few blankets. The other morning I was standing at the open kitchen window and felt the hint of a sharp edge to the wind that blew in. It made me smile. Now that we're almost 2 months past solstice, the nights are lengthening. Yesterday was our last post-9 pm sunset of the year. This led to more smiling. I'm starting to feel less glum as we move closer to my happy time of year. As I await the change of season, I continue to do the things that bring me joy in the midst of extreme tiredness and deep blues, relying on books and yarn to lift my spirits. Today I finished a blue project.

All of our socks are handmade by me, some of them made many years ago. Bill needed some new ones as some of his older ones are starting to show lots of wear. Since we have no local yarn shop and sock yarn isn't something I find in charity shops, I went to the website of Springwools in Dublin and emailed him some possibilities. He looked through these and made his selections, deciding on a blue variegated and a dark denim blue. The skein of variegated (which is showing more green in the photo--it's blue IRL) is large enough for a pair of socks with lots left over. The dark denim blue is enough for one sock with some left. I started with the large skein and made a pair. Then I made a pair of fraternal twins using the rest of that and most of the smaller skein. I finished that pair this afternoon.

He likes a plain foot, so that's what I did. 

There's more blue in my future, but first I'm diving into some purple. Last week a friend gifted me two skeins of sock yarn--one in a purple colorway so I can make myself a pair, and one in a dark blue/light blue/light purple colorway so I can make Bill a pair.

I've never used this particular sock yarn before and I'm really looking forward to it. It looks like it's self-patterning, so it's dyed in such a way that as one knits, it creates patterns automatically. It will be fun to watch this happen as I knit.

For any sock knitters out there, here's the sock info:

The blue variegated is King Cole Zig Zag, which comes in 420m skeins. I love this yarn. Great colors. I've used it several times in the past for both knitted and crocheted socks. It's lovely to work with, wears well, and the resulting socks are great. Last autumn, I got a skein in a Christmas colorway, knitted myself a pair of socks and had enough left to crochet another pair, using scrap balls in a plain cream for toes and heels. Highly recommend this yarn.

The dark denim color is Lang Jawoll Sock. It's 210m and comes with a 5g spool of reinforcement yarn. I've never used this yarn before, so I don't know how well it will wear. I did use the reinforcement yarn on the heel flap and turn.

They're just plain top-down socks. I use 2x2 rib on US size 1 needles over 68 stitches for the cuffs, change to US size 0, then do a heel flap, heel turn, gusset to start the foot. I decrease the gusset stitches every other round until I have 72 stitches left and work the foot until the toe decreases. I use a star toe. 

I will probably do the same on the socks I make with my new purple yarn. I sometimes do some sort of pattern on the top of the foot, but in this case, I want to knit plain so I can see how the patterns unfold.

Whatever it is that brings you joy, I hope you get to do a lot of it as this season starts to wind down.

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